Being me once I made the decision within a week I had set up some viewing, gone to said viewings and found somewhere to live. I have never flat shared with strangers before and found the thought of being ‘interviewed’ slightly intimidating. I was aware that I should also be assessing them as much as they were me but had no idea where to start. I figured questions about the rent, bills and cleaning schedule were obvious but then ran out of ideas. I did try asking my friends via the wonder of FB but several Shallow Grave references later I regretted it, thanks FB friends. The first place I saw the room was large but just off of the lounge and with 6 or 7 other younger working holiday tourists I felt that it was not for me. Thus it was with a certain amount of trepidation that I attended my second viewing. This turned out to be much more successful. It was a smaller flat much closer to my work and gym. The flatmates were 3 kiwis who were in there twenties and thirties with proper jobs. I was completely honest about having no idea how long I was staying (hopefully at least 7 months, possibly longer but maybe less if everything went tits up!) but they decided that I was the best bet out of everyone they saw and offered me the room. I was very excited, after months of sharing and living in a hostel I would once more be living in a proper home and have my own room. All I needed now was some furniture and I was set.
Apart from the not-so-great-flat hunt it was quite a month. There was the bizzzare feeling of settling into my new life of responsibility (yeauch!) and was planning on trying to make it even more ‘normal’. Eventually I even managed to start writing again. It had been months since I had written anything and finally I was inspired. I realised that by staying put I had allowed myself to process another stage of my grieving. I was angry at Jonathan and finally I was ready to admit and confront that anger and in confronting it I was able to start moving on from it. After months of not writing I finally wrote a very long essay on my feelings which in itself started the healing process. Unfortunately after writing and posting this essay I went online to discover that my brother had been in a pub in Glasgow when a helicopter crashed in to it. Thankfully he and his friends were fine but it was a sobering moment. So many people hurt, so many families suffering the loss of their loved ones starting on the journey that I even now am still travelling. It shook me. It upset me. Mostly though, it made me thankful. It made me thankful for the family and friends that I still had. It made me thankful that for all I lost I have so very much left.